A Rose for my Valentine
by Space Dimentio
Summary: The residents of Castle Bleck never have a good time when it comes to love. Nastasia has it the worst of all. Will someone come to comfort her?


A Rose for my Valentine

Today was Valentine's Day, which meant that a large percentage of the population of Castle Bleck was having a horrid day. Only Mr. L and Dimentio showed up to breakfast.

"So…Do you know how to cook?" Mr. L asked after they had both sat at the round table for several minutes in awkward silence.

"Not really," Dimentio shook his head.

There was more awkward silence before L spoke up again. "Know where anyone else is?"

"I believe they've all locked themselves in their rooms."

Mr. L stood up and stretched. "Whelp, I think I'll go check on them or whatever." In reality, he was going to go begging in the hopes that someone would make him food.

Dimentio also stood and vanished with a snap. L shook his head, moderately worried about what the jester might be up to. He left the kitchen and headed to the wing in which all of their bedrooms resided.

First, he went to O'Chunks' room. When he peeked inside, the burly Irishman was lying on his bed still in his pajamas, staring forlornly at the ceiling. Mr. L left him alone and moved onto the next bedroom.

When he started to open the door and poke his head inside, a diary was flung his way. He yelped and ducked, the book hitting the wall where his head had resided moments before with a dull thud. Mimi stormed up to him, an angry and frustrated look on her face. L noticed with surprise that she was wearing yesterday's clothes and hadn't done up her hair.

"Go away, Mr. L!" Mimi yelled, her eyes tearing up a little.

"Er…You ok?" the mechanic asked hesitantly.

"No! Why do all my boyfriends break up with me!" The green girl turned and dived into her bed, burying her face into one of her eye-gougingly pink pillows. "Why does nobody love me!" she sobbed.

Mr. L started to come inside in order to comfort her, but halted when a Rubee embedded itself into the floor at his feet. He held up his hands defensively and backed out of the room. "Ok, ok, I'm going! Sheesh…" He closed the door and proceeded down to the end of the hallway.

He knew that neither O'Chunks nor Mimi could cook, but had checked in on them anyway for the sake of procrastination. There was no way in heck he was going to bother Count Bleck, so that only left Nastasia. He was sort of afraid to bother her, but he really didn't have the option of going to Flipside in order to get something to eat. There was a good chance the heroes were walking around there and he didn't need to have them spotting him in a diner casually eating a hamburger or something.

He gingerly knocked on the door, then waited. When there was no response, he knocked again, a smidgen louder this time. He didn't think she was going to answer, but then the secretary spoke up.

"I don't want to be bothered," Nastasia said, her voice oddly clogged.

"Um, are you alright? Everyone's acting really strange today…" Mr. L said.

"Mr. L, if you don't leave this instant, I will assign you a hundred page report about the consequences of love." Her voice quivered on the last word.

L bit his lip, unsure of what to do. If he left, he was going to starve, but he was fairly certain he wasn't capable of handling whatever was wrong with the secretary. Shrugging to himself, he did as asked and left to go find something to distract himself from his grumbling stomach.

From his doorway, Dimentio watched as Mr. L went from door to door without success. He had a good idea of what was wrong with everyone, but wasn't really affected. Or maybe he was, according to that tiny little niggling feeling he had deep down in his gut that he preferred to ignore. Sighing to himself, he floated over to Nastasia's door and knocked.

"Mr. L, didn't I tell you to leave?" Nastasia said from inside.

"Ah ha ha, my dear. You seem to be quite vexed today," Dimentio said lightly, opening the door and entering without waiting to be invited in.

"D-Dimentio? What are you…" Nastasia was sitting on her bed, looking remarkably disordered and pale. Her hands were fisted in her lap, and her glasses were set aside on the comforter. Her bubblegum pink hair was down and tangled, and her eyes were red and puffy. Fresh tear tracks glistened on the sides of her face.

When he came in, she hurriedly put on her glasses and brushed her hair back behind her shoulders, blushing with embarrassment.

He blinked, his smile faltering somewhat. "Oh my, you really aren't fine, are you…" he said.

"I…N-Not really…" she said, staring at the floor.

Dimentio hesitated, dropping his usual smile entirely. He quietly floated over to her bed and sat down beside her, tilting his head so that he could look into her eyes. "Perhaps you'd like to talk about it?"

She paled considerably. "N-No…I don't think I can…"

He nodded. He knew she was crying because Count Bleck could never love her in the right way. "…Don't they say that things always turn out for the better?"

"W-What?"

He smiled slightly, much more genuinely than was normal for him. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "Everything has a reason, yes? Fate pulls all of our strings like a naughty puppeteer putting on a nonsensical play."

Nastasia nodded forlornly, wondering where he was going with this. "I suppose so…"

He met her gaze again. "I, for one, think that you should wear your hair down more often. It makes you look very pretty…"

He said the last part so softly, she almost didn't hear. She blushed again, frozen with shock.

"You really shouldn't be sad, you know. You'll find happier pastures," Dimentio continued, mentally adding "_unlike me_." He paused, waiting for her to respond, but when she didn't, he gently took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze before letting go.

"…W-Why do you care!" Nastasia said, her confusion at his uncharacteristic behavior suddenly turning into anger.

Surprised, he scooted an inch or two away from her. His expression became puzzled, and he shrugged. "I have no idea." Deciding he didn't know what he was doing or why, he got up to leave. But something prevented him from simply teleporting away.

Dimentio turned back to the miserable secretary and put on his customary, infuriating smile. He put out his right hand and waved the left over it, conjuring up a gift. It was a dark purple rose, its petals streaked with faint lines of blue. He learned over her and put it into her hair, whispering, "Just remember that there are people worse off than you."

Without another word, he snapped his fingers and left, leaving Nastasia to wonder what in the worlds had just happened. She reached up and felt the velveteen texture of the rose, an ever so slight smile gracing her lips.

Elsewhere, a jester curled up on his own bed, contemplating his choices and trying to chase away his guilt.


End file.
